


Paths Less Traveled

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes visions of the life he could have with either of them to make him realize he wants both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paths Less Traveled

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 1 of [](http://silverbullets.livejournal.com/profile)[**silverbullets**](http://silverbullets.livejournal.com/), for the prompt _the one you really love_.

Dean's decided to call the little girl a witchling, because _witch_ just doesn't resonate with the gap-toothed smile and the curly pigtails. She practices magic, but from what he's been able to tell, it's a family trait, and none of it is actually dark. Whatever's been killing the townsfolk, it didn't start here.

But it doesn't stop the little witchling from bounding up to him before he can leave, clutching her flop-eared stuffed bunny in one hand and grabbing his pants leg with the other and speaking with a lilting voice. "Wait, wait, Mr. Winchester! You forgot your present!"

Dean would tell her that she's mistaken, that he doesn't need or want any sort of present, and thanks anyway, except that she's already taken a small pouch from her pocket and opened it.

"Hey, wait a sec –" he starts, but too late. She giggles and tosses a pinch of glittery pink powder at him, and he doesn't have time to dodge it, doesn't have the space to avoid it.

He blinks. Sneezes.

He falls like it's in slow motion, isn't even aware of his body hitting the floor.

And then he's drifting…

*

…drifting…

*

  


…and coming to in a place far different than the one he just left.

The room he's in is dark, but he knows the feel of motel rooms like he knows the back of his own hand, and it's clear to him that's where he is. _Which_ motel is a good question, but far more pressing is finding out who the body pressed firmly against him belongs to. It's been a long time since he brought a girl home, and this…

This definitely doesn't feel like a girl, he thinks, swallowing hard.

He shifts slowly, careful not to wake the other person as he turns in his arms so that he's facing him. Dean's eyes still haven't really adjusted to the dark, but as they trace over the shadowy contours of the man's profile, he feels his heart begin to pound, because there's no way he can mistake this for anyone other than…other than _Sam_.

He's lying in his brother's arms, with aches in his body that tell him without a doubt that they weren't just trying to share body heat here.

 _Oh, God._

Panic claws at his throat, and he moves hastily, trying to escape before this situation somehow gets worse. But Sam's been trained as well as he has, and the quick movements have him blinking awake, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

"Dean?" Sam's voice is rough with sleep as he props himself up on an elbow, staring down at Dean. "What's wrong? Nightmare?"

"I…huh?" Whatever happened to him clearly made Dean stupid, because he can't move, can't even think straight as Sam's hand comes up and presses against his chest.

"Your heart's racing," Sam says, frowning. Even in the dark, Dean can pick out the worry in his eyes. Even in this mess, the only instinct he has is to soothe it away. "Come on, come back." Sam tugs on him, pulls an unresisting Dean closer and wraps his arms around him.

"Sam, what –" This can't be right, this can't be happening, Dean doesn't understand.

"Shh." Sam drops a kiss to the top of Dean's head, holds him close. "Just sleep, Dean. I'll keep the nightmares away, I swear."

And somehow, impossibly, Dean succumbs to the comfort rolling over him in waves. His eyes close, and he drifts again…

  


*

…until he's coming to a second time, and now he's standing in a sunlit, cheerful-looking kitchen. He's by the sink, a dish in his hands under the running water, and he's gazing out the window at a colorful little garden.

The plate he's holding falls from fingers that have suddenly gone nerveless, and he's only aware of it in the vaguest sense as it clatters into the sink. He clutches at the counter with one hand, presses the other to his forehead, and wonders, again, what the _fuck_ is going on.

"Dean?"

And oh, he recognizes that voice, it's _Cas_ , thank God, Castiel can shed some light on this, except…

Before he can turn to face the angel, arms are winding around him from behind, and the perpetrator is…is…is _nuzzling_ at his neck, and…

"Cas?" he breathes, and then he's being spun around until he's staring into ocean-deep, too-blue eyes. "Oh…" He can't quite catch his breath, and Castiel is regarding him with that achingly familiar head-tilt, bemused expression firmly in place, and Dean…

Dean kisses him.

He doesn't know where the urge comes from, but it happens like it's the most natural thing in the world. His hand fists in Castiel's t-shirt, and he'd wonder why Castiel is wearing a _t-shirt_ , of all things, and jeans that look like Dean's own, except it's hard to process anything outside of Castiel's mouth moving over his, Castiel's hand sliding around his waist, Castiel's scent all around him…

*

… Dean doesn't even remember blacking out this time, but he comes to with a raging migraine and a heart that feels like it's about to beat its way out of his chest. "What the hell –" He sits up slowly, scrunching his eyes shut against the steady throb in his temples.

"You're silly, Mr. Winchester," he hears, and slits his eyes open again to glare at the witchling responsible for this entire madness. She seems unperturbed. "It shows you your true love, duh!" The breath punches out of him, but she doesn't appear to notice, her nose scrunching. "But you were there for a long time, almost ten whole minutes." She peers at him suspiciously, clutching her stuffed bunny a little tighter. "Were you doin' sex stuff? Sometimes people dream about sex stuff, and they don't wanna leave."

"Nora!"

The girl looks up and beams at her mother. "Hi Mommy! I was giving Mr. Winchester a present, 'cause he was so nice to us!"

Mrs. Conway looks horrified, when Dean can raise his gaze enough to see her expression. "Oh no, Mr. Winchester, I'm so sorry!" she says, kneeling down and pressing a hand to his forehead. She whispers something, and thank God, the pain dissipates. "I swear, she meant no harm, she's just…"

"It's fine," he grunts, standing now that he thinks he won't topple right back over. She follows suit, wringing her hands and shooting fretful glances at her daughter.

"What she said, it's a bit more complicated than that." She sounds like she's rushing to get the words out. "It's not…not _necessarily_ about your…true love. It just shows you possibilities, potential. With the person you're most drawn to, even on a subconscious level. That's all. Truly harmless."

Right. _Harmless_.

~*~

Dean opens the door to the motel room with a heavy feeling in his chest, sort of like he's about to come face-to-face with a firing squad. Which is ridiculous, because it's not like Sam – or even Castiel, if he's around – will have any idea what happened to him. There's no reason to be so nervous about facing either one of them.

Except that _he_ knows. He _knows_ now, and how is he supposed to hide it when it's _right there?_ How is he supposed to pretend everything is normal when he suddenly knows how much – and in what ways – he cares for them both?

 _Potential_ , Claire Conway had said. _Possibilities. Someone you're drawn to._ But it's more than that. The way his heart feels like it's going a thousand miles a minute is enough to tell him that. He loves Sam and Castiel, has probably been in love with both of them respectively for years, and there's no universe where that could be anything like okay.

He hears a throat clear and looks up quickly, almost guiltily, as he closes the door. His heart plummets when he sees that Castiel _is_ there, in his usual suit and trench coat, head tilted and eyes searching Dean's. Sam sits on the bed behind him, his gaze open and eyes wide when Dean works up the nerve to finally look at him.

There's something off here. Something really horribly off. Dean braces himself, looks to Castiel again.

"You were gone for quite a while," the angel says. "And then I felt you collapse, but we didn't know where to look for you, and…" He trails off. Dean's bad feeling intensifies, and his eyes slide back to Sam's, questioning, even if he's not sure he wants the answers.

"We think the witch was hiding you somehow, because Cas searched everywhere. When that didn't work, he decided to try and find you through your dreams." Oh, God. "I went with him."

Dean doesn't even realize he's backing away until Sam's eyes go somehow even wider and he's jumping up and grabbing for Dean's arm, stopping his retreat. Dean tries halfheartedly to pull away, but Sam's been stronger than him for a long time now, and it's all a pretty useless battle anyway. The damage has been done.

"Dean. _Dean_ , you idiot, look at me!" Sam's fingers lift Dean's chin so that he's staring up, directly into his baby brother's eyes.

It's not the expected revulsion that he finds there.

"Dean…" Sam says again, and then he's folding his arms around Dean, holding onto him like Dean is something precious, burying his face in Dean's neck and muttering about stupid moronic big brothers who are so goddamn blind they can't see what's right in front of them, and Dean just melts into the embrace. His pulse is frantic, there are mutant butterflies in his stomach, but this feels _right_. It feels like _home_ , and it would be perfect if something wasn't still missing…

…except that he barely has time to form the thought before Castiel presses against him from behind, hands curling possessively on Dean's waist, lips dancing along the back of his neck.

The butterflies have turned into a herd of elephants stampeding through his gut, but it's not enough to stop him from twisting his head around and catching Castiel's eyes, feeling desperately hopeful yet still so full of fear.

This is impossible. This should be impossible.

"Sam and I discussed the matter while awaiting your return," Castiel says, his voice low. "And we discovered that our feelings strongly resembled your own. Thus, rather than forcing you to choose, we wondered if you would be amenable to finding a balance between the visions you were granted."

Sam pipes up again. "We were thinking a home base, maybe just a few hours from Bobby, and real jobs that would still allow us to pack up and take on hunts once in a while. Best of both worlds. And Cas is into the idea of taking a leave of absence from Heaven for a while. We could…"

"We could be a family," Castiel finishes, when Sam can't seem to form the words.

This is either the best dream Dean's had in a helluva long time, and he's about to wake up and have a whole new reason to hate the world, or…

…or…

"Is this real?" he whispers, hating the way he sounds so damn _fragile_.

Sam doesn't answer with words. He cups Dean's cheek in one big hand, leans in slowly, giving Dean time to back away if he wants to, but the honest truth is that Dean's never wanted to do anything _less_. When Sam's lips meet his, and it's soft and gentle and nothing like Dean's ever felt, and he wants to deepen it, wants to mold himself to Sam, but he can't past _Yes, yes, **thank you** , love you, Sammy…_

He's so caught up in Sam that it takes a long moment to register the rustling sound from behind, or to become aware of Castiel's wings as they wrap around both him and Sam. Feathers brush against Dean's arms, a kiss of something otherwordly to skin, and every bit as potent as Sam's mouth against his own. His thoughts change, becoming a litany of _Sam_ and _Cas_ and _oh, God_ and _love you, love you both so damn much._

Dean doesn't know what they're starting here, or how far they're going to take it, or what's going to happen. But whatever this is, they're in it together.

His brother and his angel.

His family.


End file.
